


Clarity

by egirl27



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egirl27/pseuds/egirl27





	Clarity

Clarity

Fandom: Supernatural  
Character(s): Dean Winchester, Reader.  
Warnings: Slight angst. No smut, maybe in a sequel.  
Notes: The dialogue is set up weird. And by that I mean that there’s barely any. Hope it keeps you entertained anyway. Enjoy :)

 

It started at a New Year’s Eve party that one of your friends was throwing. There were a lot of people around, the music was loud, and the drinks were good. You let loose for a night, it was no big deal. You danced, you mingled, you accidentally fell on a girl you didn’t know while you were stumbling around. All in all, you had a really good time.  
When you woke up the next morning, your head was killing you and the light that shone through the curtains was too bright. Figuring you should take a shower to clear your head and wash away some of the makeup that had ended up smeared on your hands and arms by the end of the night, you headed to the bathroom.  
You scrubbed the product out of your hair. You slowly washed your body, starting at your feet, working up, and then going down your arms. Starting with your right bicep and working to your wrist, you wiped away slashes of dark lipstick and eyeliner smears. Moving to your left, you rid your skin of every stain left from the night before. Except one.  
At first, you thought it was just a nasty patch of waterproof mascara that would take some extra soap. Then it hit you. What happened last night at midnight to people around the globe. What happened to people from Nebraska to Siberia to the Philippines. What happened to people sleeping soundly when the new year hit and to people who stayed out at the club til daylight.  
Clarity Marks.  
Or at least that’s what Americans like you called them. In Spain, they were called Nuevos Comienzos. In the Philippines, they called them Diyamante Buhay. Clarity Marks were a strange thing. They appeared every 365 days. The day that they appeared on eventually came to be the beginning of a new year, the human race’s way to mark time. Exactly at midnight, too, but the concept of hours came long after the Marks. They appeared on people of all ages, of any gender or ethnicity. Nearly everyone ended up with one in their lifetime. Some people didn’t, that was okay. Generally it was people who didn’t even want one. But to people who did get them, which was the vast majority, they were incredibly important. They marked the beginning of a new life.  
A person received their mark at the beginning of the year that they were going to meet their soulmate.  
Clarity Marks started out as anything but clear. The were a smudge. People got them in different places, depending on DNA. Your father has gotten his mark on his left wrist, which apparently was the dominant gene. Your mother’s had been just above her right collarbone. So yours started out as a smudge.  
In the first couple of weeks, you were ecstatic. You were about to meet the love of your life! You called your mom first, and she cried. Then your grandma. She also cried. You told everyone who cared, and a lot of people did. It was a big deal to get your Clarity Mark, especially so young.  
Your excitement dimmed, however, as your precious little smudge stayed just that. A smudge. It should have been growing clearer by now! It had been nearly three weeks since the mark had arrived, and the only difference was that you could tell it was going to be one line of words, a short sentence. And that was only because the mark was getting smaller.  
For a lot of people, their marks cleared up quickly. Soulmates always seemed to find each other in the first half on February, which is why Valentine’s day had become more about love than Saint Valentine. For them, by the time February started, their mark was able to be read. Maybe not clearly, but enough studying could show you the words. And a lot of people did study them. After all, they were the first words that your soulmate would ever say to you, printed across your skin in their own handwriting.  
For months, you waited on your mark. It was agonizing. You couldn’t even begin to make out any of the letters until the end of May. The beginning was less fuzzy by then, although the rest was a complete mystery. But on May 28th, you had a start. The first word was simply, “The.”

 

Throughout the first few months of the year, you let some things drop. Or, more precisely, you let some people drop. While nearly everyone waited until they got a Mark to get into any kind of committed relationship, people still had fun. People went on dates. They had brief relationships. And you? You had a little crush on the barista at the Starbucks down the road. You flirted a lot, but both of you knew it would never be serious. Obviously, since you hadn’t gotten a Mark three years ago before you met him. When the weather started warming up, you wore a short sleeved dress to get coffee and he had seen your mark. While he wasn’t offended or upset (not like he rationally could be), it marked the end of your flirting with him.  
You almost wished you had a little longer without your soulmate. Almost. But of course, that was only because someone completely gorgeous had moved in near you. You never actually talked to him, but when you passed by and waved at him, and he smiled and nodded back, those emerald eyes killed you. If you hadn’t known that your first meeting with your soulmate was just around the corner, you would have been all over this new guy. But while his good looks entertained you for the time being, your soulmate was practically by your side.  
By the time July started, you were confident that it would be this month. You could read the whole sentence by now, even if it wasn’t perfectly defined. Green? Where the fuck were you gonna be talking about green? You set you confusion aside, however, and replaced it with excitement. A couple of weeks at most, you were sure of it.  
On the morning of the 4th of July, you woke up on your side, facing your wrist. You blinked. And blinked again. Then rubbed any fuzzy weirdness from your eyes. Nope, it hadn’t been your eyes. There is was. Perfectly written in print, not sloppy but not perfectly put together. With. No. Smudges. Nothing. You swore it looked just like your mother’s or your father’s or anyone else’s that you’d seen that had already met their soulmate. Today was the day.  
You had plans to go watch the fireworks. And go get lunch with one of your friend, before that. And you had some grocery shopping to do. It could be anywhere! You were so excited and terrified at the same time that it was all you could do not to scream. But no, you’d put yourself together, instead. If today was the day, you were going to look damn good. Still had to practical, since you’d be sitting in the grass by the lake by the end of the day.  
By the time you got out of the shower, you had determined that you would wear skinny jeans, a flowy, dark red tank top with a lace back, and black flats. You styled your hair as usual, but you were extra careful to make sure it looked perfect. Same with your makeup.  
Your grocery store expedition proved unpromising. People talked to you, but nothing even remotely similar to what your wrist said. At lunch as you made plans to get a ride to the fireworks with your friend and told her (and showed her) all about your mark and today, the only people you talked to were the waitress and your friend. Nothing.  
That meant that it had to be at the fireworks. Or if somebody showed up at your house. Wishful thinking, but you were going to have to wait. So you waited.  
And waited  
And waited  
Waited more  
Waited some more  
And waited even more.  
Until it was nearly sunset and your friend was pulling up in front of your house. And you were so excited and shaking and honestly FREAKING THE FUCK OUT (as your friend so nicely described you to yourself) that you almost couldn’t handle it but you had to. You had to. You didn’t want to be so nervous that the words on his arm were “Oh shit.”  
When you got to the lake, your friend asked if you wanted to go with her or be alone when you found him. After deciding you’d rather it be private and promising her that you’d tell her all about it, you laid your blanket out on the grass. You figured you still had a while until the fireworks started, so you went inside the lodge that put on the fireworks. You got yourself something to drink, just a lemonade. You didn’t want any alcohol in your system for a moment like this.  
As you left the lodge and headed back to your blanket, you noticed that emerald-eyes-man from the next block over was here too. You passed by with a wave, and he nodded in response, just like usual. The taller man next to him muttered a quiet greeting as I passed.

The firework began as the sun fell beyond the horizon. Despite your nerves, they were beautiful. You found yourself getting lost in the glistening colors. Red, gold, blue, green, purple, taking on magnificent shapes and taking your breath away with every boom. That’s why it startled you so much when you felt someone flump on to your blanket. Turning, you saw-  
Emerald-eyes staring into the sky with a look of wonder, so different than the way you had seen him before. In a moment of panic, you realized that he didn’t know about your Clarity Mark. You internally groaned, realizing that he was going to hit on you at the worst possible moment on the worst (well, best) possible day. You were about to say something to him about your wrist when he turned to you. The words you were ready to say caught in your throat when he spoke.  
“The green ones are beautiful.” He said.  
You froze. In that instant, you realized that your next words were already a permanent stain on his body.  
“They shine like your eyes.” You responded.

And suddenly, you understood why they were called Clarity Marks. Because in the split second that your words, printed down his forearm, were illuminated by a flash in the sky, nothing had ever been more clear; he was your soulmate.


End file.
